


A Heart That Feels Like Running

by Wildgoosery



Series: I'm With the Band [14]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Biting, Body Worship, Collars, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mind-Altering Magic, Possessiveness, Praise, Punishment, The not-fun kind of humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildgoosery/pseuds/Wildgoosery
Summary: Brad hands over the reins. Taako drives them off the road.





	A Heart That Feels Like Running

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this fic are a bit of a rough ride. If that makes you nervous, I recommend skipping to the end notes first.
> 
> We also wanted to clarify what exactly we mean by the “mind-altering magic” tag for anyone who’s worried it might be upsetting or triggering for them. I wrote a summary of what spell is used and how -- it contains **MAJOR SPOILERS** for this story, and [can be read here on pastebin.](https://pastebin.com/d4r7AE6v)

It's the end of the day on a Friday, and the Bureau's administrative wing is largely abandoned. Save Charity, who never clocks out before five; and Brad, presumably on the other side of the closed door to his office.

"You don't have an appointment," Charity says. They're long past "Mister" now, mocking or otherwise.

Taako flashes a grin and dumps his bag on the floor beside her desk. "I'll just be a sec."

Of course he doesn't have an appointment. He hasn't seen or talked to Brad since a couple of days ago, when he ended up face-down on the floor with a rolled-up tie in his mouth. He's been kind of a nightmare this week, and he knows it, but that's fine. That's good, actually. 

He doesn't bother to knock. Just shoves the door open and slouches through, in his cutoffs and flip flops and too-thin white shirt that's barely buttoned up. Grins again, wider, as Brad looks up from his desk and registers Taako's body in the room, in these clothes. 

Brad sets down the sheaf of papers he'd been reading and folds his hands on the blotter. "I don't recall having asked you to be here,” he says, even.

Taako slaps his palms down on the desk, leans forward, and leers. "Gonna need your keys."

"Pardon?”

Taako holds out one hand, flexing his fingers in the universal gesture of "gimmie." Says, "Just hand 'em over."

Brad's eyes flicker toward the still-open door. "Presumably you mean the keys to my apartment," he says, a little quieter. A little dangerous, now.

"Listen, I'm not an idiot, I know what all these extra training hours are about," Taako says. "I wanna get fucked before the next mission, and that window's closing fast. So." Another wiggle of his fingers. "Come on, aren't you horny for efficiency, Bradson?"

"I'm 'horny' for honoring my _scheduled_ commitments," Brad says. "Of which I have several this weekend."

"But not tonight."

Brad presses his lips together, not quite a frown but getting there. 

"Come onnnnn," Taako says, wheedling. Shimmying his hips a little. "One last fuck for the road. Reward me for being _such_ a good boy."

"That is not how I'd characterize your recent behaviour."

Both hands flat on the desk again, Taako runs his tongue along his upper lip. A pantomime of thoughtfulness. "Well _gosh_ , Mr. Bradson, can't imagine what you mean..."

"Pet," Brad says, even lower. A rumble that jolts in Taako's stomach. "Surely you haven't been misbehaving on purpose."

Taako bites his lower lip; angles his head, just so, to look up at Brad through the shadow of his lashes. "Now why would I do that?"

Brad sighs through his nose as he mulls this over -- not as stone-faced as he'd likely prefer but a pretty good show, all things considered. When he shifts to dip a hand into his pocket, Taako feels that telltale movement as a thrill up his own spine. 

"This is not a reward," Brad says, and produces his keyring with a soft metallic clink. Holds it out, the embossed leather tab between his thumb and forefinger. "You have fifteen minutes. Stand in front of the bed and wait. Do not undress. Do not touch yourself or anything else in my apartment. These instructions are non-negotiable and I will physically carry you into the hallway and drop you on the floor if you disobey any of them even in part, do you understand?"

"Whatever gets your motor running, Bradson," Taako says, and snatches the keys before Brad can rescind the offer. He straightens and hooks a thumb through a belt loop and drags the waist of his cutoffs dangerously low, down past the sharp jut of his hipbone, a few darker wisps of hair peeking out above the denim. Whirls the keys around a finger, and says, "Don't keep me waiting too long, big guy," and then turns to sashay back through the door. Sailing high on the adrenaline of getting away with this absolute bullshit; of having no idea how Brad will make him pay for it.

Taako loops around the residential hallways more than once, waiting for the stretch in front of Brad’s place to be clear before he lets himself in. No-one’s business what he does with his free time.

Lock left open, lights flicked on, sandals kicked off by the door, duffel bag tossed into a corner. Brad’s apartment is marginally less immaculate than usual, which Taako feels a little weird for noticing but hey, he’s cleaned this shit himself more than once. A couple of dishes are sitting in the sink; a half-drunk mug of coffee on the desk. A small suitcase lays open on the bed, filled with Brad’s idea of casual weekend wear: use-softened jeans, short-sleeved collared shirts in muted plaids. Another full set of clothes is laid out on the bureau, underwear and everything, which Taako figures must be so Brad can drag himself out of bed at some ungodly hour tomorrow and get dressed before his brain’s turned on.

He crosses the room to peer into the suitcase, worrying Brad’s keys between his fingers. A couple of days’ worth of packing, at least. Maybe more. Brad hadn’t said a single thing to him about being out of town, but then it’s not like Brad’s ever talked to him about _any_ plan at all outside of when and where they’re gonna fuck.

Taako glances at the clock on the nightstand and feels a spike of not-quite-panic. Drops the keys into the little stoneware bowl on the table in the entryway and then zips back over to stand on the rug at the foot of the bed. Runs his hands back over his scalp. Pulls out his bun, shakes his hair out and then twists it up again. Checks his reflection in the mirror across the room. Can’t help but startle when the handle of the door to the hallway turns, despite Brad’s being exactly on time, because of course he is.

Brad lingers in the entryway, unhurried as he slips off his shoes, sets his wallet in the bowl with his keys, locks the door. Taako hadn’t really gotten a good look at him before, too preoccupied with strategic shitheadedness to pay attention to the scenery. And he looks _good_. Tempting, a buttoned-up tidiness that begs to be messed with. When he crosses the room to where Taako is waiting, stops just within reach, Taako can’t resist reaching up to hook a finger through the knot of his tie. To pull it loose, just a little. To arch a brow and say, "Burgundy in spring? _Really_?" Rolling the words on his tongue like candy.

"Hands at your sides," Brad says, clipped. Ominous in a way that makes Taako shiver as he drops his arms with a sarcastic flop. Still technically obedient. Still just within the lines. 

"So what'll it be tonight?" Taako sneers. "Gonna turn me over your knee? Teach me a _lesson_?" Draws that last word out with an exaggerated flick of his tongue.

Brad circles around behind him, and he hears the swish and click of the suitcase closing. The shuff of leather on fabric as Brad lifts it off the bed. "That depends on you," Brad says.

"Yeah?" 

“If you’re this eager to be punished, then clearly I haven’t been fulfilling my role,” Brad says, still moving around just out of sight. To the left, now, somewhere beside the bureau. “ _Clearly_ I’ve gone far, far too easy on you, pet.”

Taako fights to keep his ears perked forward, attentive and unconcerned.

Brad moves into view again. Hands in his pockets. “Or perhaps I’ve misunderstood our arrangement. Is that it?” A ruthless shadow of a smile. “You began all of this, after all. You and your rude little mouth. Your greedy little cock. You got what you wanted in the end, didn’t you? To be fucked. To be used.”

Taako swallows. “Guess I did at that,” he manages, too raspy. Too thin, but god who cares. Who _cares_ when Brad’s looking at him like this.

“If you want so badly to be in charge,” Brad says -- and Taako can see the shape of the danger he’s in, now, still vague but looming close, “then perhaps it’s time I stand aside. Perhaps I should hand you the reins, mm?”

Taako doesn’t rise to the bait this time. Doesn’t look away from Brad’s eyes, narrowed and calculating. He waits to be given whatever choice Brad's got in mind, doubtless between two equally humiliating options. Doubtless some trap that he’ll walk right into, unresisting. The black box of Brad’s intentions closing in on him, electric, winding him up. Pulling him taut like a wire.

Brad begins to hum under his breath. Low and droning and nothing Taako remembers, but he can feel the power in it. How it settles over him like a warm weighted blanket, pleasant and comfortably muffled. Not Calm Emotions, but something similar, maybe. Weird, but whatever, that fine. Brad’s weird shit is why he’s standing here.

"Taako,” Brad says, the word syrupy with magic. "You will do exactly as you like, without self-consciousness or shame. And you will continue to do so until you've come."

Taako feels the impulse to resist well up inside him; knows that he could, if he chose to. Knows these words can be shrugged off like a coat, sliding over and off of him, if he threw up the right walls. If he bothered. If he wanted.

The impulse passes, floating downriver. Gone. Forgotten. And settled within the warm cocoon of the spell, Taako hears Brad’s words for what that clearly are: a kindness. A gift, really, who wouldn't want this sort of invitation? The simplicity of impulsiveness and not giving a shit how it looks?

Taako covers his mouth with a hand and grins against his palm. Giggles a little and says, "Oh man, really?"

"Do you understand?"

"Hell fuckin' yeah," Taako says. And he reaches up to take firm hold of Brad's neck and pulls both legs up around his waist. Brad's hands jerk up to hold him by the hips as he shoves his face up under Brad's jaw and murmurs " _Jesus_ you smell good," against his skin. Nips, playful, then licks a wet line along taut chords of muscle. "I'm so fucking horny but I gotta eat you first, it's been _days_ and you didn't even let me kiss you last time you absolute asshole."

Brad makes a small startled sound, quickly cut off by Taako kissing him, hungry and impatient, lips catching on tusks and teeth, his hands shoved into Brad's hair. Shamelessly fucking up his ponytail, which sets Taako giggling into Brad's mouth. "Whoops," he murmurs, and sucks at Brad's bottom lip. “Whoooooooops now I’m really in trouble.”

“Pet,” Brad tries again, only to be thwarted by a bark of laughter and Taako crowing, too loudly, “Oh my _god_ ‘greedy little cock’ did you write that ahead of time, you lech? You fuckin’ perv, say something else. Say something _really_ filthy, I wanna hear what you got.” Does not give Brad time to respond before he ducks in for another kiss, a guilty snicker against Brad’s lips. “Shit, I’m supposed to be good now, right? Already in trouble. Deeeeeep trouble."

"You are," Brad rumbles, a twitch of a real smile at the corners of his mouth, _god_ is he always this handsome? It's such bullshit that Taako can't kiss him and look at him at the same time.

Taako wore these stupid cutoffs today because he knows Brad likes them, because he thought that maybe Brad would spank him while he still had them on and then watch while he gingerly wriggled out of them, and honestly all of that still sounds great. Sounds _amazing_. But they're also confining as all get out, and he's so hard just from kissing and from the smell of Brad's skin and hair, the taste of Brad's mouth, the feel of bare palms and blunt fingers on his thighs, holding him snug to Brad's waist, and Taako wants to be out of them, out of his clothes. He wants to be naked on the bed with Brad pressing him down into the mattress. He wants he wants he wants-

Taako combs his fingers back through Brad's hair, mouths at the stubble-rough line of Brad's jaw. "So what's my punishment, big guy? Mmm? You gonna throw me around? Gonna make me kneel on the floor again?" He nips at an earlobe and grinds his hips forward, his cock shoved against Brad's stomach, too many layers of cloth in between but still very very good. 

Brad huffs a sharp breath through his nose. "Pet..."

“You should cancel your plans,” Taako says, the words pouring out of him in a giddy fizzing rush. “Whatever the fuck it is, just cancel it, make something up. You should cancel and you should keep me here all weekend and you should make me do whatever you want. Whatever perverted bullshit you can think of, all of it, make me lick the floors while you fuck me, tie me to the bed and make me watch you jack off, fuck my mouth until I choke on your dick, whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want, I just...” A laugh, breathy and close to Brad's ear. "Shit, I mean...that all sounds terrible. Just awful, please Brad don't kidnap me for sex all weekend that sounds gosh darn _rotten_."

Brad's hands tighten on his hips. "It isn't punishment if you ask for it." 

Taako can't quite bite back a high whine. "No come on, _please_ , seriously I’m all freaked out about this stupid relic mission, please, I packed a bag and everything, I just wanna get ruined by a hot Orc before I die, pleeeeeeeeeeease I gotta get out of the fuckin' doghouse.” He kisses Brad again, slower now and pleading in the spaces between. "Just punish me real thorough-like and when you’re done I’ll be extra good, I’ll be _so_ good. I’ll be an _angel_ , please, you haven't got my collar out in weeks."

Brad swallows. "Your collar,” he says, with a careful graveled evenness doesn't remotely work on Taako anymore. Transparently changing the subject, too, but that’s fine. Taako can see how badly Brad wants him, knows how close that impassive frown is to dissolving into something else -- an earnest desire Taako has only glimpsed in fragments. That he wants to see again right now, right _now_ , why doesn't he always chase this? Why does he waste so much time on being a shit, on dancing around what he wants, when he could be taking this Orc apart instead? When throwing himself off the cliff of not giving a fuck is so obviously, exhilaratingly perfect?

Taako meets his eyes and whispers, "Brad, I want it." He lays his hands along Brad's cheeks, on skin flushed dark and hot to the touch. He loves being so close. He loves talking this way while Brad’s holding him, while his legs are hooked around Brad’s familiar solid bulk, each keeping the other close, safe and terrifying and wonderful. No room for secrets. No space for anything but the raw honest hunger that’s throbbing in his groin, that’s tight in his chest, that’s roaring in his ears. "I want you to put it on me and tell me I'm good and then fuck me while I'm wearing it,” Taako murmurs. “From the front, god, I wanna kiss you, too. I want you to see me wearing it and see my face while you're fucking me, Brad, I wanna be kissing you when I come."

Brad kisses him in earnest then, starved and sudden, one hand rubbing up and down his thigh, fingers curling to brush against his balls through denim. He's aware of movement as Brad crosses the room, then a sudden rush backward when they fall onto the bed, Brad heavy and insistent on top of him. Mouths still crushed together as Taako's hand snakes down to palm the front of Brad 's trousers, that thick gorgeous cock that Brad is gonna fuck him with very very soon.

Brad dips his head down to kiss the bare vee of skin exposed by Taako's low collar, hands circling Taako's ribcage. Taako's fingers are still in his hair, and they pluck at the leather cord binding his ponytail until it comes loose, and his hair falls around his face in a curtain. Long and swaying and in the way, but Taako _likes_ it is the thing, hardly ever sees Brad with his hair down unless he's fresh out of the shower. He buries his hands in it, cups Brad's head and pulls him in for another kiss, reveling in the mess and novelty. 

Brad pulls away to breathe and to press their foreheads together, propped up on his elbows. Panting, very slightly, his lips on Taako's skin. "Pet, I don't..." A slow exhale. "You know that you're under a spell."

"Mmmmmmmsure."

Brad pushes himself up, far enough that their eyes can meet. A deep, serious crease between thick brows. "This is important," he says. "You're acting differently because of something I did, do you understand?”

“”M just an idiot wizard,” Taako says, sing-song. Giggles and tries to pull him in again.

Brad resists, still stubborn for some incomprehensible reason. Says, “Taako, this is your punishment."

"Good," Taako murmurs. Lifts his head up off the mattress to kiss Brad's bottom lip. "Great, punishment's done, we can skip right to you telling me I'm a very good boy."

Brad smoothes the hair back from Taako's face and kisses his hairline. Grimaces a little. "Taako. Please tell me you understand."

"I understand," Taako says, and he does. He recognizes the cotton wool muzziness of being slightly scrambled. He knows that normally he might balk at some of this, might not want to be quite so straightforwardly begging to be owned and used and wanted, but that's fine. He's so happy. This is so good and he's so _happy_ , how can this be a problem? "Brad, I fucking _consent_ please let me out of these pants I can't stand it, I'm gonna literally die."

Brad crouches over him on the bed, kissing him, and he's vaguely aware of hands on the fly of his cutoffs, the relief of pressure as the buttons spring open. Lifts his hips and then his shoulders as Brad pulls off his clothes without even bothering to twist the shirt around his wrists, without a single sneering comment about the lack of underwear, all of it dropped out of sight and mind.

Brad shifts to stand again, just beyond where Taako's knees are splayed wide and bent over the foot of the bed. Looks down at Taako through the tatters of his stern mask of indifference. He moves to pull his tie off the rest of the way, efficient and unthinking, and Taako realizes with sudden sparking certainty that this isn’t at all how he wants the next bit to go. 

Already lightheaded with lust and magic, he sits up so quickly he feels the rush of it in his chest, like jumping from height into water. Pushes Brad's hands aside with a murmured "Let me," and sets to work on the buttons of his shirt. Brad stands, still and watchful, as Taako's fingers move down his chest, starched cotton parting to reveal green skin and black hair. It occurs to Taako that he doesn't really _touch_ Brad most of the time -- sucks his cock, sure, kisses him when he's given half a chance, scratches up his back or bites hard on a shoulder, yeah, but does Taako ever take a second to just enjoy the scenery? Just roll around a little in this objectively excellent thing he's got going here?

He yanks open the buckle of Brad's belt, the fly of his trousers, pulls pants and underwear down and waits, impatient, while Brad steps out of them. Then he shifts to kneel on the bed, eye-level with Brad's collar bones, and runs splayed hands up along the planes of Brad's stomach, around his waist. Fingers toying with the patch of fine soft hair just above Brad's ass, which he'd never really taken notice of before but which is somehow unbearably sexy, god, Brad is _incredible_ what the actual fuck? What the _hell_? 

Taako laughs, a little giddy. Buries his face in the dip between Brad's pectorals, breathes in deep of sweat and the last clinging hint of Brad's soap, chest hair tickling his nose. Runs his fingertips up and down Brad's spine and feels the twitch of muscle. Kisses a trail across Brad's chest, tongues at a pine-green nipple and draws out a soft, choked gasp that makes his own cock jump with want. "You like that?" Taako murmurs. Flicks his tongue and is rewarded with another hitch of breath. Rubs the spit-wet nipple with his thumb as he moves on to the other. "I'm gonna be so good for you, baby. I want you to feel so fucking good."

He feels Brad's fingers push up under his bun, claws gently grazing his scalp. "Pet..."

Brad's other hand is still at his side, and Taako takes it in both of his own. Lifts it to his mouth, palm upturned, and nips at the soft warm skin of Brad's wrist. Shifts one hand to Brad's hip as he kisses along the underside of his forearm to nuzzle at the crook of his elbow, to press a cheek to the swell of his bicep. He wants to be fucked but he also wants this, and how novel it feels despite all their months together. Brad shivers as Taako's hands slide over his flanks, along the curve of his ass and down the backs of his thighs, and it's perfect. Brad is _perfect_.

He can't quite help a whine of protest as Brad steps out of reach. Swallows it when he pads around the side of the bed, toward the nightstand. Taako watches over his shoulder, dizzy with arousal, as Brad bends down to open the top drawer. Whips back around to kneel, spine straight and head forward, and wait for what he now knows is coming.

He startles when Brad lifts the collar into view. Realizing, belatedly, that he hadn’t heard the telltale jingle of the little silver bell. Because the bell no longer dangles from the ring at the collar’s center. Instead...

Taako laughs, surprised and delighted. “Is that a _heart_?”

“I...thought it would suit you,” Brad says, very low. 

“When did you do this?” Taako leans forward, trying to get a better look. “It’s my collar, right? It’s the same one.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Taako says, immediate. Laughs, again, at his own naked eagerness. “Fuck, Brad, I love it. You weirdo, you _pervert_ , I-”

“Pet.” Brad’s voice is sandpaper rough with lust; with warning.

Taako’s jaw snaps shut, his eyes wide. It takes considerable willpower not to wriggle as Brad threads the collar around his neck. Kisses his cheek and murmurs, "Will you be a good boy for me?"

Taako blows out a shuddering exhale. "Yes."

Soft clinks of metal as the buckle is fastened. Hot breath in Taako's ear, stirring the hair at his temple. Then the sharp, irresistible pull of a finger looped through the front of the collar, drawing Taako up into a kiss. The leather just slightly too tight, his neck bent back and straining, held close as Brad crushes their mouths together, tusks bruising Taako's lips. 

Brad hums another spell. Kisses him again as slick fingers slide down the valley of his ass and push through that first burn of resistance, push into him, gentler than Brad often is. At odds with the rough insistence of his mouth.

They settle into a rhythm, then. Brad steadily fucking him with his hand, Brad's hips rutting forward with every push of fingers, his cock painting a wet line on Taako's stomach. Still holding Taako's collar, although the kisses slow and deepen. Taako a gasping arch in his arms, cock sliding against Brad's thigh. 

"God, Brad, please," Taako pants into his mouth. "Please I don't wanna come like this.”

Brad ghosts his mouth over Taako's, the tips of their noses brushing together. Licks at Taako's upper lip. "Tell me,” he rumbles. “You gorgeous thing, tell me what you want.”

“Fuck, I wanna come with you in me please, _please_ I'm ready please just fuck me, Brad, just push me down and fuck me right now I need it.” 

“Pet-”

"Please." Taako strains upward to try and capture Brad's mouth again, just out of reach. "Please, baby, I want you, I wanna see you come I wanna _feel_ it. I want you to fuck me and say my name and come inside me please, please I want it so fuckin bad, don't make me wait anymore _please_ ," Taako whimpers, “I _need_ you, please, you’re all I want. Baby, you’re _all_ I want.”

A tight choked grunt of something not said, and Brad's arms shift to wrap around Taako's shoulders, to cradle his skull as Brad kisses him again and lowers him back onto the bed. 

Taako feels a hand squeeze his hip, the hot pressure of Brad's cock against him. Both of them still kissing, gasping in each other's mouths, as Brash pushes forward until he's flush with Taako's ass, Taako's legs around his waist. All of Taako wrapped around him, his head held close by fistfuls of dark hair, their chests together. Brad moaning soft words between kisses -- "pet" and "Taako" and other things, a blur of "mine" and "good" and "need" that's almost too much to stand as Taako is now, spell-softened and breathless.

"Harder," Taako moans. The collar jingles as Brad fucks into him, rocks him against the bed. "I'm so close, baby I'm gonna come just from this, god, keep going keep fucking me, keep holding me baby I'm so close please I wanna come please make me come please keep going please-"

"I'm here," Brad murmurs, so hot and so near. Taako's whole field of vision, the whole world in that moment. "Taako, I've got you."

"Please-"

"You're _mine_."

Taako comes with a cry against Brad's mouth and hot spurts between their stomachs, nails digging into Brad’s shoulders, surrounded and filled.

And as he falls over that edge so, too, falls the muffled comfort of the spell. 

"Oh fuck," he whispers, then snaps his jaw shut. His eyes clenched tightly as it all comes rushing in again, all his shocked awareness of what he's said and shown. He feels, keenly, the carved-out hollow of his own naked want. Feels the creeping edge of panic at knowing Brad has seen it.

Brad, who has stilled above him. _Inside_ him, god. Taako draws an unsteady breath and opens his eyes. Brad's are wide with lust and worry. He looks just as he did before the spell came to pieces -- still impossibly handsome, irresistibly close. And there's no magic to explain the shake in his voice as he asks, softly, "Do you want me to stop?"

He would stop, Taako knows. _Has_ stopped, the handful of times he's been asked, without question or hesitation. 

He _would_ , but that's not...

Taako licks his lips. Combs his fingers back through Brad's hair. "You know what I want."

"Pet-"

"I told you," he rasps. "Don't make me ask again."

As Brad begins to move he stays up on his elbows, watching Taako's face, his hair swaying around them both. Taako reaches up to touch Brad's lips; to brush drops of sweat from his temple. It feels dangerous, now, to do these things. To have done them. This isn't the arrangement. This isn't how it's supposed to work.

"Just like that," Taako murmurs, to see what will happen. Gasps a little as Brad dips his head to growl against his throat, to bite his neck. Brad fucks him through the aftershocks of orgasm, draws out honest moans of pleasure. And Taako pulls him down off his elbows, holds him close, holds their sweat-slick bodies together as Brad closes in on an end of his own, pace stuttering and breath shallow, until the wave finally breaks.

He comes in pulses that spill wetly down the inside of Taako's thigh, their legs and arms all tight and tangled. And for a little while they stay like that, Brad hunched over him, a comfortable weight as their breathing slows. 

Brad kisses his ear with a murmured, "All right?"

"Mm." 

“This wasn’t what I...” Brad trails off. Swallows and says, “I didn’t expect this.”

Brad’s still so close. Still inside, still so much, and Taako’s heartbeat hasn’t settled at all. Is louder in his ears, now, as he presses his fingers into Brad’s back. “Mm.”

Brad lifts himself up on his elbows, frowning. Tries to meet Taako’s eyes, which Taako avoids by closing them. “Are you certain you’re-”

“I’m fine,” Taako whispers. He can hear the waver and hates it; hates that he can’t seem to smooth it out. “It’s all fine, whatever.”

“Pet...” Brad sighs and settles down against him again, nosing the soft skin under Taako’s jaw. “I really do need to leave in the morning...”

A sudden rush of embarrassment at that, the overnight bag remembered, all the things he’d said and asked for -- begged for -- re-examined with a clear head. Desperate, and not in a fun way. Not in a sexy playful way, but cringing. Pathetic. “Sure,” Taako mutters. “Sure, yeah. Yeah, I didn’t...you hadn’t said...” God, Taako, shut up. Shut _up_! “Whatever, it’s fine.”

He wants to ask where Brad’s going. Who he’ll see, and why, and for how long. He wants to ask why Brad didn’t bother to tell him. He wants to ask if he can sleep here anyway, to just stay here for a little longer and get woken up at dawn, that’s fine, he could lock up after Brad left. He could tidy up the kitchen, hell, whatever Brad wants. He’ll do whatever Brad wants if he can stay just a little longer. If Brad would just ask him to stay.

He can feel the warm rhythm of Brad’s exhales against his cheek. Another kiss, pressed to the corner of his eye. “I’ll only be gone four days.”

“Sure.” Taako pushes on Brad's shoulder. Not urgent, yet, but getting there. It's a little bit hard to breathe. A little bit too much like drowning. "Hey listen, I’m gonna...I should clean up."

Brad rolls off of him and Taako gets to his feet. Not looking at Brad's face. Not really able to.

The lamp in the bathroom is already lit, a polite little flame in the corner. Taako keeps his footsteps something like normal until he's closed the door behind him, then slumps over the taps. Runs cold water and splashes his face. God, he still can't fucking _breathe_...

He’s not an idiot. He knows that Bradson’s soft for him, that he’s sentimental under all the gruff and bluster. But let’s be real here, let’s be clear-fuckin-eyed, soft doesn’t mean shit. This is a fling. It’s a way to pass the time while they’re stuck on a moon. Eventually this job is gonna be over, and Brad will go back to doing whatever he did before, and that’ll be it. That’s what Taako _wanted_ from all this when it started. He’s always known how it would go.

And then he went and made it weird. He’s made it _weird_ in a way a guy can’t just bounce back from, weird and awkward and over the line and now it’s just a matter of when. It’s only a matter of time before that weirdness gets too big for them to ignore, too heavy to shrug off, and that’ll be it, and oh holy fuck Taako can’t stand the thought of how it’ll all fall apart. He can see it so clearly, that mask of benign professionalism closing over Brad’s face; can vividly imagine the telltale stiffness in Brad’s voice and the words he might use, all careful formality, to say outright what Taako already knows. 

This was supposed to be fun. Just a fun, dumb thing to do with a hot guy from work. 

The worst part is he can’t even be angry. Brad’s an asshole and he talks a big game but he isn’t actually cruel. He wouldn’t have...he’d never have done this if he’d had any idea what would happen. If he’d had any clue what Taako would say, the hole he’d dig under them both. 

He looks up at himself in the mirror above the sink. At the chaos of his hair, his skin flushed and marked with bruises, with the distinct squared shapes of teeth. At the collar still fastened around his neck, and the charm that winks in the lamplight. Mockingly heart-shaped. Engraved with his name. His real name, just to rub it in that this was made for him. Like the collar. Like the _bell_. Reminders that he’s made himself the pet of a man who likes to fuck him on the floor of an office.

A man who’s about to leave for some trip that Taako didn’t even know about, because why would he? Why would _he_ know? Why would Brad tell _him_?

Taako stares at his reflection. There’s an awful pain in his chest -- really bone-deep bad, churning and acid and thick with nausea, bad in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Not since the Sizzle it Up days. Not since he learned how certain things worked; how _he_ had to work, to be in the world and stay whole.

What the hell does he think he's doing.

*

Brad waits there, sitting on the edge of the bed, for what feels like a very long time. He doesn't look at the clock on his nightstand -- knowing the precise number of minutes he’s waited isn't going to make his heart slow down, or smooth the churn of worry. 

He should have lifted the spell the moment Taako opened his mouth. It's his job in their arrangement to be careful, to stay vigilant, and he _knew_ where this was headed. That he'd stumbled into something that wasn't his to see. When he’d dreamed up this idiotic idea, he’d assumed that Taako would drop to his knees and beg for Brad to fuck his throat, not-

Even thinking about it now draws him bowstring tight. To be wanted so badly, to be spoken to in that way. It's been a long time since anyone's looked up at him with such uncomplicated warmth, or said his name so softly. A very long time, and not at all what he was looking for. Not anything he'd have said he wanted from this, and yet.

He should have stopped it, but he didn’t. Because he's selfish. Because it was good, and he enjoyed it.

Brad runs a hand down over his face, dragging at his skin. Stares at his suitcase in the corner, the folded clothes on the dresser, Taako’s duffel near the door. He’s scheduled for an early cannonball in the morning. He’ll land near Neverwinter and catch the train, and head up into the foothills of the Teeth. To his mother’s house, where he’ll spend a long weekend helping out with Spring cleaning. 

Should he have said something? Should he say something now, once Taako reemerges? He doesn’t talk about his personal life with coworkers, hasn’t mentioned this particular trip to anyone but Lucretia and Charity and Killian, and that last one only to ask if she wanted him to bring her anything back from the village. He especially doesn’t talk about his personal life with Taako, who likely doesn’t even know Brad’s mother is alive. Or that Brad is from the northwestern foothills. Or that he’s made this trip every year since he left for university. Taako has never asked a single question about Brad’s time before the Bureau, or about what he does in the hours they aren’t together. 

But then, isn’t _Taako_ most of his personal life these days? Isn’t Taako how he spends nearly all his free time? If this had been any other weekend, any other night, wouldn’t he have caved at once to having him here for the night? For both nights, if that’s what Taako had wanted? Had begged for in that hoarse, desperate voice that’s even now electric in Brad’s memory?

Brad stares at their clothes on the floor. Decides, ultimately, that getting dressed might make things worse. Settles on picking up shirts and pants and underwear and folding them into two neat piles, set beside the one he’d left on the dresser that morning. Sits back down on the bed. Wonders how long he should wait before he knocks on the bathroom door.

He's still undecided when that door swings open and Taako breezes through it. He's fixed his hair and scrubbed off the last of his makeup. He does not meet Brad's eyes. "Hey listen, forgot we have practice real early tomorrow so Taako's gonna head out."

"I don’t have to be up until five," Brad says, careful. "You can stay until then. If you like.

Taako flashes a brittle smile but doesn't look over. "Yeah nah, prolly better if I go," he says. Heads straight for the pile of his clothes and starts to pull them on with hands that are visibly shaking. 

"Pet..." Brad winces. "Taako. Maybe we should-"

"Yeah?" snaps Taako. "What?"

Where to even start with this? "We should talk,” Brad says. “About what happened."

"Cannot imagine what you mean." Taako yanks on his shirt; fumbles with the buttons, his eyes on the floor. “We banged and now we’re done, it's not particularly fucking complicated."

Something wrenches in Brad's stomach. “Taako. I-”

"You didn't even hit me this time, chief, I'm good to go." Taako does up the fly of his cutoffs. "No need to pet my little head."

Brad folds his hands in his lap. Acutely aware of his nudity, of the semen drying tight and sticky on his skin. "I'm responsible for this," he says.

"What?"

"You," Brad says. Too stiff, he knows, a flat grayness that feels like it’s sitting on his chest, like it’s crushing him into a cutout. "In this context, you're my responsibility. And I would rather you not leave when you're so obviously distressed."

"I'm fine," Taako says. "Got laid and everything."

"You know what I-"

Taako's voice is like a blade; a flash of steel before it slips between Brad’s ribs. "Jesus, are you stupid? How clear do I have to make this? You're off the hook, okay? You're good."

Brad's fingernails dig into the back of his hand. "I really would prefer you stay," he says.

"Yeah well we can't always have what we fuckin' want, can we," Taako says as he strides across the room. As he runs. Steps into his flip flops and grabs his bag and reaches for the door. "Later, Bradson."

Brad can't think of what to say to the back of Taako's head. Barely manages a grunt of acknowledgment as Taako escapes into the hallway and is gone. 

Well.

 _Well_.

Brad swallows again and stares at the floor. He's thirsty. And tired. Badly in need of a shower, and sleep. He'll figure out how to text on his Stone and send a note, maybe. Some kind of a message from the train in the morning. Correct for his error. Explain where he’s gone, or something. Something he’ll think of when he isn’t so tired.

He gets to his feet and pads into the bathroom, scratching his shoulder. Stops short in the doorway. 

The collar is sitting on the bathroom floor. 

Of course. 

He has a job in all of this, and once he’s failed in that what else is left? What else is there between them but an agreement to each fulfill their role, uphold their end of the bargain. To stay inside the lines of what’s allowed. Lines he deliberately, patiently drew, and then-

"You knew what this was when you started it," he says to his empty apartment. To the collar and the lingering smell of sex. 

He showers, perfunctory. Dries off. Pulls on a pair of loose flannel pants. Takes off his glasses and sets them on the nightstand. Gets into bed and hums the lamps out.

Lies on his back, eyes open, as true moon shadows slide across the walls.

**Author's Note:**

> Given the uncertain note this fic ends on, now seems like great moment to remind everyone of the summary for “I’m With The Band”: A series of connected stories, equal parts sentimental and horny, about how Brad and Taako and Kravitz fall in love.
> 
> Like, gonna be real with you here, things are not great for these boys right now, but it’ll be fine, okay? It’ll be FINE. Your pal Goose wouldn’t lie to you.
> 
> Thanks very very much to the whole IWTB team for their notes and advice and encouragement in general, and on this story in particular. 
> 
> Title from [Silk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oou4p5mXOTY) by Dustin Tebbutt and Thelma Plum, an excellent suggestion made by RQT.
> 
> [@Wildgoosery](https://twitter.com/wildgoosery)


End file.
